But maybe you carried your demons with you everywhere, the way you carried your shadow.

The alchemist was dazed and dumbfounded, as the true meaning of the magic was revealed: *The dead will rise from glade to glen and ancient will be young again*. The dead had, after all, risen. From dead and dry things there was growth, and new life everywhere. And the endlessly long winter had at last turned to spring. From life to death and back again to life. It was indeed the greatest magic in the world.

I feel a flash of grief so intense it almost makes me cry out: not for what I lost, but for the chances I missed.

Requiem has been controversial because people dont feel I gave it closure.

That's the thing: We didn't really care. A world without love is also a world without stakes.

At a certain point your brain stops to rationalize things. At a certain point it gives up, shuts off, shuts down.

Love is the only thing in the world worth having. You must never loose it or give it away. We must never let them take it from us.